


What's in a Name

by arihime



Series: Twin AU [11]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arihime/pseuds/arihime
Summary: What better place to discuss baby names than in a bath tub?





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt “Morgan & Lucina.” 
> 
> Let’s have some fluff after all that angst, shall we? Also, say hello to my headcanon for the children's name.

One of the perks of being queen, Aislin thinks, is having things already done for you before you can even think to ask for them. It’s especially nice when you’re a pregnant queen, and come back from an annoyingly long meeting to find a hot bath waiting for you.

Aislin lets out a moan as she settles into the tub, the hot water soothing muscles that are stiff from sitting still for hours. Another perk is the fact that the tub is big enough for her to stretch out completely, without any part of her sticking out of the water. Her home in the village— as fond of it as she is—didn’t have a tub, let alone easily accessible hot water. And while the Shepherd’s camp had a surprisingly nice bathing tent, it was nowhere near up to the level of this right now.

(She had a tub during her time in captivity as well, and along with the other nice trapping of her gilded cage, but Aislin refuses to let herself think of that time now.)

Aislin dunks her head underwater, letting her hair swirl wet around her. She’s thinking too much. The point of having a bath, after all, is to relax.

She surfaces and lays against the edge of the tub with her eyes closed. The stone makes for a surprisingly good pillow, and combined with the heat, it doesn’t take long for her to be lulled somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

She is dozing when she hears faint footsteps on the tile, and when she opens her eyes, she sees Chrom watching her fondly from the entrance of the bathing chamber.

Aislin sits up and asks, “How did the rest of the meeting go?” 

He’d let her leave when he saw her fatigue, but as grateful as Aislin is for that, she feels a bit guilty. 

“Let’s not talk about that right now.” Chrom says. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much.” Aislin lets the word drag out with a flourish. “It’s amazing what a bath can do for sore muscles.”

“If you put it that way, I might decide to join you.”

Aislin lifts a hand out of the water and beckons him toward her. “Please do. Gods know this tub can fit the both of us easily.”

“The three of us, you mean.” Chrom says, face alight with a boyish grin. It’s infectious enough to make Aislin smile.

Her hand ghosts over her stomach, which is growing every day. “Yes, the three of us.”

She watches Chrom undress, his movements flashy enough that she knows he’s trying to give her a show. His grin ruins any sexiness he might have had, too jubilant to be taken seriously. It’s a welcome change from the solemn Exalt she saw during the meeting, but then, she supposes that talking about taxes, land redistribution, and Plegian reparations would make anyone solemn. Or bored out of their minds.

Chrom struts over to the tub—there’s really no other word for it—and Aislin laughs. She scoots away from the edge so that Chrom can slip in behind her, water splashing as he settles in. His legs stretch out on either side of Aislin, bracketing her, and she lays back against him.

He wraps one arm around her chest, pulling her flush against him. His other hand dips below the water, skating down her torso to trace the scar on her thigh.

Aislin shivers.

“Have you ever thought about how we met?” Chrom asks, voice ghosting over her ear. “I didn’t think anything good could come out of an inferno like that, and yet there you were.”

“You’re being over dramatic.” Aislin laughs. “And making me sound way too heroic. You had to save me, remember?”

“I’m glad I did. I don’t even want to think about life without you in it.”

“Now you’re being overly romantic.” She says, though inwardly she delights at the flowery talk. In her wildest dreams, she never imagined meeting anyone like this, a literal prince who loves her unconditionally, who doesn’t mind the darkness or the secrets. And now here she is, sharing his bed and his heart, pregnant with his child. If she didn’t know better, Aislin would say she was blessed by Naga herself.

But no matter how lucky she is, it isn’t because of a goddess’ touch. Naga would never bless someone with Grima’s blood, after all.

Aislin sinks further into the water, pressing herself against Chrom to try and dispel the sudden dark turn of her thoughts. The Fell blood is a constant curse she has to live with, but she refuses to let it soil this perfect moment. Or her child’s future, she thinks, resting a hand on her stomach. Naga may not protect her, but she will surely protect Chrom’s child.

The hand on her thigh move atop her stomach. Chrom threads his fingers together with hers.

“Four months until the baby comes.” He says, giddy in his countdown. Then he turns pensive. “You know, we should probably start talking about names soon. . .”

“Oh! Ummm. . .” Aislin wriggles away from Chrom, pulling herself upward in the tub. She can’t believe she hadn’t thought. . .

“Aislin? What wrong?”

“I, umm. . . I may have already picked out names.” She admits. 

She hadn’t realized until that moment that maybe she should have involved her husband in that process. She’d simply decided on them the instant she found out she was pregnant, perhaps not consciously, but somewhere in the back of her mind. 

When she turns around to look at him, Chrom doesn’t seem angry at her admission, only surprised. “Really? What are they?”

“. . .Morgan for a boy, and Lucina for a girl.”

It feels weird to say the names aloud. She decided on them, yes, but she’d never tested the names out on her tongue before, or ever really said them out loud. 

The original bearers, after all, had always been Mama and Papa to her.

Aislin likes how they roll off her tongue, and like even more the sentiment behind her decision, but she even so she is quick to say, “We can pick something else though, if you don’t like them.”

Chrom’s response is to shake his head and pull her back against him. “Those sound like wonderful names.” He says. “Can I ask why you chose them?”

“. . . My parents. Those were my parents’ names, and I thought. . .” 

“You wanted to honor them.”

Bless this man for his understanding. “Yes.”

Chrom leans forward and sets his chin on Aislin’s shoulder, close enough so that he can turn and kiss her cheek. 

“Princess Lucina and Prince Morgan of Ylisse.” He murmurs into her ear. “I like the sound of that.”

He starts trailing kisses down her neck, probably as a distraction, but worries still churn in Aislin’s mind.

She pulls away again, turning until she can see his face. “So you don’t mind? That I picked without asking you?”

Chrom frowns. “Aislin, why would I mind?”

“I don’t know. I think most fathers would want to be involved in picking their child’s name.”

“You don’t call this being involved?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Hmmm. . . Sitting around discussing baby names would have been fun, I guess. But I like this way too. Besides, there will be other children that need names after this one.” And now it’s Chrom’s turn to be bashful. “Won’t they?”

“I told you I wanted at least two or three.” Aislin says.

She settles against Chrom for the third and hopefully final time. Maybe it was silly of her to worry like that, but Aislin is nothing if not a worrier. It’s a skill that’s kept her alive, and one that’s difficult to unlearn even now.

“Two or three.” Chrom says. “So, do you think we’ll have a Morgan and a Lucina at some point?”

“Maybe.” 

Who knows what the future will bring? All Aislin knows is that she wants to spend the rest of her life like this, safe in Chrom’s arms.


End file.
